I've had my ass handed to me here and there as I've gone along, and this is how I've been trying to get back up, the best that I can.

heartache

The silence leaves sorrow in my mouth, nowI taste woodsmoke, and my mom’s lasagnaA memory made out of something thatnever came home, in the end

A stuttered pauseI went below the surfacetoo long, too much againthey couldn’t breathe around me

The silence leaves heartache in my mouth, nowI taste herbal tea, and sprite as it runs through my fingersI carefully went along, ever watchfulfor a safe place to build a denBut there was no room, in the end